


Just Feeling Low

by palateens



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, First Kiss, Getting Together, Slow Burn, mentions of April/Camilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10130267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: She missed being close to Camilla, but she didn’t miss feeling lost and sad about being in love with someone who couldn’t love her.ORThe five times Lardo wanted to kiss Camilla (and the one time she did).





	

**Freshman Orientation**

She’d barely convinced her parents to attend Samwell. Larissa may or may not have lied to her parents about being undeclared leaning towards Economics (but who knows, maybe she’d like her Intro to Econ class). She’s still skeptical about being so  geographically close to her family. But the way she sees it, her family will probably move somewhere new in the next year or so. That’s how it’s always worked. And Boston was cool, or at least cool enough to stick around for a bit longer. She’d mainly applied to New England schools to prove to herself that she wasn’t flaky or a drifter or whatever. She could stay put somewhere for six years. Two down, four more to go. 

Samwell’s campus was about as generic as they came. They had trees, quads, fat squirrels, Jocks, Greeks, and a large body of water to call their own. Larissa didn’t know how often she would stick her head outside of Koetter, but maybe she would surprise herself and join the rock climbing club. Maybe she could get a job now that her parents weren’t breathing down her neck to be x, y, and z. She loved her parents, really. But there was extra, and then there were her parents. 

General orientation had ended an hour ago. The art school organized a general tour around the campus but that was cut short when one of the guides was knocked unconscious by a fucking lacrosse ball. So she had the rest of the day to kill since her department wasn’t holding orientation until the morning. For the time being, Larissa was wandering around; taking in the sites while learning the lay of the campus with her trusty GPS app. She’s crossing the Lake Quad, admiring a guitar circle that’s surrounded this one dude on a tightrope, when she hears some scream “heads up!” 

Instinctively, Larissa ducks. Unfortunately, a tennis ball still ends up slamming into her torso. Classes hadn’t started yet, and she’d already sustained her first major collision. Great. 

She’s doubled over on the pavement, mostly distracted by the thought of the annoying welt that’s going to be left in the ball’s wake. She hears fast foot steps approaching, and Larissa is beyond ready to give this douchebag a piece of her mind. 

“Are you ok?” A girl’s voice says next to her. 

She nods, wincing slightly. 

“Hear, let me help.” 

Larissa wants to protests, partly because she doesn’t want some random stranger touching her, but also she’s not in the mood to be patronized by some dime-a-dozen prep. She’s about to say as much when thin, but strong, arms are wrapping themselves around her and she’s being hoisted up. Larissa’s eyes shoot open, she’s being carried bridal style by the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. She’s blonde with amber eyes, and the best goddamn dimples Larissa has ever seen. 

“Hey,” is the only thing she can think to say. She makes a mental note to slap herself later. 

The girl chuckles softly, “hey yourself.” 

There have only been a handful of times that Larissa has been stunned by someone’s beauty to the point that she can’t help but smile. This is one of those moments. And this girl’s smiling back just the same. Larissa doesn’t think she believes in love at first sight. But if it exists, that’s probably what she’s feeling right now. She doesn’t know how long they’re just…staring at each other, before Larissa notices that she’s been clinging to this stranger’s neck for an abnormally long time. 

“Uh…you can put me down now,” she murmurs with an awkward laugh. 

“Oh,” the girl blushes. “Right, sorry.” 

She lowers Larissa gently. It takes Larissa a second to get her bearings. She uses the opportunity of catching her breath to give this stranger a long look. She’s got at least six inches on Larissa. And she’s wearing those awful soffee shorts Larissa thought went out of style. 

“Nice shorts,” Larissa says without thinking. 

She winces, because not everyone takes teasing well. But the girl takes it in stride, snorting. 

“Thanks, I only wear them when I’m about to make a fool out of myself in front of a cute girl,” she smiles coyly. 

Larissa giggles, which is not something she does regularly. “I’m Larissa by the way. Larissa Duan.”

“Camilla,” she offers her hand to shake. “Camilla Collins.” 

Larissa knew that she was pan before coming to Samwell. But the way Camilla made her knees feel weak makes her think that the whole ‘1 in 4, maybe more’ thing is going to be amazing. She really wants to taste the lip gloss Camilla’s clearly wearing. Maybe Camilla’s sense of style was stuck in the mid 2000s, but Larissa really _really_ wants to get to know her. 

**Winter Screw Freshman Year**

Larissa, now known as Lardo by the entire Men’s Hockey Team, had made a pact with Ransom and Holster to go stag to Winter Screw. Then all of a sudden, Ransom and Holster had found two chicks that wanted a foursome. Part of her was pissed that she was now the only person among the hockey team AND her art major friends that was dateless. But a large part was too impressed to be mad at them for long. 

The music at Screw is so loud she can’t hear herself think. The room is dim aside from the stage where one of the student bands that auditioned is playing some pop punk cover, and the strobe lights that are flying overhead. It’s just as well, she can nurse her punch and flask of vodka in peace. Lardo considers the merits of taking a lap around the dance floor when she feels someone tapping her shoulder. She turns around, Camilla. 

“Hey,” Camilla shouts over the music.

“Hey yourself,” Lardo volleys. 

“You having fun?”

“Oodles,” Lardo snarks. “Sorry, my friends kinda ditched me.” 

“No worries, so did mine,” Camilla shrugs. 

Lardo knows there’s not much to say when an entire room’s buzzing around them. Even if they wanted to, it’s all so distracting. She wants to take a chance, but she doesn’t know how.

“You wanna dance?” Camilla interrupts her musings. 

Lardo’s jaw slacks, but she nods enthusiastically. Camilla takes her hand, dragging her further into the fray of drunken, college bodies. A few people look a little too green for her liking. Larissa’s glad that her dress is three years old, and a little too loose now that she’s been training with fucking hockey players six days a week (which wasn’t in the job description but how can she complain when they help her take away all the self-loathing that comes with exercising?). 

When Camilla stops, they’re in the center of the dance floor. The song changes to something slow. Lardo’s danced with girls before, but most of them were her close friends who thought it was cute, or drunk girls who always ‘wanted a lesbian’ (those ones leave the Haus with beer dripping from their hair). She doesn’t want to screw this up, but she doesn’t know if she should fucking lead or what. 

“Here,” she hears Camilla whisper in her ear. Camilla’s arms pull her in close. 

Lardo sighs, slipping her arms around Camilla’s neck. _Again_ , she notes. She leans into Camilla’s chest, feeling inexplicably safe. The song is some throwback that isn’t particularly romantic. But being with Camilla makes her feel…so much…more…than she thought was possible. 

The song’s dying down, and Lardo wants nothing more than to lean into Camilla a kiss her. She’s looking up expectantly. Camilla seems to catch her drift, and she tilts her head down. Lardo’s craning her neck, and she’s so fucking ready for this when– 

“Camilla!” someone shouts behind them. 

They both turn around, there’s a few girls (presumably from the tennis team) who are clearly drunk beyond belief but staring at Camilla with impatience. 

“We’re getting froyo, c’mon,” a tall redhead demands. 

“Guys–” Camilla protests. 

“You promised,” one of them yells. 

Camilla looks back at Lardo apologetically. Part of Larissa wants to tell her to stay, fuck her shitty friends. But they’ve seen each other only a handful of times, and these are her teammates. If the hockey team has taught her anything, it’s that team is right up there with family.

“Go,” Lardo assures her, nodding in understanding. 

Camilla sighs, sort of with relief but also with something else. She smiles at Lardo like she’s this amazing thing. It makes her heart melt, long after the women’s tennis team has left. Shitty finds her forty five minutes later, nursing her flask on the curb in front of the venue. 

“C’mon,” he knocks her armly gently with his foot. “Let’s get some drunk food and vent.” 

She nods somberly, allowing him to pull her up by the elbow. 

**Kenya**

She doesn’t think about home as much as she thought she would while she studies abroad. Mostly because there’s too much to see and do. When she does think of home, it’s in her dreams. It’s in the quiet moments after her pillow hits the head. She dreams about lots of things that remind her of home…or well, Samwell. True to her predictions, her parents moved to Southern California after her Frog year. Lardo doesn’t see herself staying with her parents next summer, not when Jack or Shitty’s rooms are always an option.

She dreams about watching her boys skate on the pond, or the crisp autumn she’s currently missing. She dreams about doing inventory, the sound of skates grinding to a halt on the ice, and the sound of Ransom and Holster doing cellys. Lardo dreams about spending hours lying in Jack’s bed with him and Shitty, talking about whatever came up. She dreams about whiffs of maple, pine, weed, cologne and sweat. She catches glimpses of Jack with blond guys she doesn’t remember meeting, and Shitty greets her like he’s waiting for her to come home. He probably is.

But sometimes, she dreams about none of them. She dreams about a blonde mane that’s only grown out since last spring. She dreams about the scent of rain mixed with Shea butter. She dreams about amber eyes, and lithe hands that ghost over every inch of her body. She dreams about being bigger than she is now. Maybe not like before, but soft enough that she doesn’t feel like she’s pretending to be something she’s not; like she’s at home in her own skin. She dreams about deep kisses that leave her dazed and euphoric.

On nights where she dreams about Camilla, she stays in bed longer when she wakes. She sits, staring at the ceiling of her room. She wonders if messaging her on Facebook would do anything. She decides it would be easier for everyone if she kept quiet until she got Stateside again.

When she returns in late December, the first thing she does is check Facebook. She searches for Camilla’s profile, checking relationship status.

 _In a relationship_ , it reads.

Larissa’s stomach bottoms out, her heart gets logged in her throat.

**Epikegster 2014**

Camilla’s been dating April for over a year at this point. Lardo wants to be happy for them. Because really, they’re perfect for each other. Lardo’s a junior, working for one of the best NCAA teams there are. She’s best friends with some of the best artists and the coolest guys around. She just beat Kent fucking Parson at beer pong. But suddenly, she’s looking at April and Camilla leaning against the mantle in the living room. They’re standing so close that she can hardly tell who’s where. They’re alternating between kissing, whispering, and laughing. Lardo feels sick to her stomach.

She goes to Shitty’s room, and someone’s ralphed in there. She goes downstairs to tell him, and decides to enjoy the fresh air for a while. She nurses her tub juice, using the porch railing and post as a seat. She tries to numb herself. Maybe it’s not the healthiest thing to do, but she’s twenty-one, and hung up on someone she can’t have. The last thing she needs is to stew in her emotions. Lardo doesn’t know how long she’s out there, but it’s long enough that she’s half asleep when Kent’s bursting the front door wide open.

“Wow, Parse,” her brows furrow at the panic in his eyes. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Oh,” he looks at her like he forgot he wasn’t the only person in the world. “Hey.”

Lardo rolls her eyes, “hey yourself.” She winces. Despite her best efforts, she can’t ignore the parts of her life that are undeniably Camilla Collins. Because pining or not, Camilla’s one of her best friends. Camilla is smart, hilarious, and a poor judge of taste but so amazingly earnest.

She hears Kent sigh, which eases some of the tension from her own shoulders. “You wanna talk?”

Kent looks hesitant, but something snaps in his demeanor. He saunters over, plopping down next to her on the railing. He’s quiet for a moment, taking another deep breath. “You ever…do something stupid because you’re in love with someone you can’t have?”

Larissa laughs harder than she has in a long time. “Does it count if I’ve thought about doing it?”

Kent shrugs, “probably.”

They have some silent understanding where they don’t get too specific. But Lardo can tell that Kent means Jack; just like Kent can probably tell it’s Camilla when she and April come out to get more tub juice. Kent leaves with Lardo’s number in his phone and a half-hearted promise to talk later. She wonders if he’ll follow through. She still wants to kiss the fuck out of Camilla. But for once, she feels less gross for admitting she’s not ok.

**Winter Screw Senior Year**

It’s her last Winter Screw. This time, Lardo’s going with Bitty (as friends). She buys a new red cocktail dress because she’s twenty-two, and even if in a year she’s back to being her big old self, she’s sick of wearing formal clothing that makes her look like a garbage person. She’s sick of waiting to wake up one day and find that she’s back to this or that. She doesn’t want to live in fear of changing. Because if her boys have taught her anything, it’s that beauty is more than a social construct. She sends several snaps to Kent (who, surprisingly, has become one of her best friends). Most get replied in less than a minute later with some chirp or compliment. The last snap she sends is of herself in front of her bathroom mirror. Chowder may or may not photo bomb it at the last second. Kent sends back a selfie with him and Troy parodying their quasi-sexy poses with the caption _that’s hot_. She screenshots it, hopping she remembers to show it to the guys before they get wasted.

There’s a knock on her door less than a minute later. She opens it for Bitty.

“You know there’s this invention called door knobs, right?” she chirps.

“You offend me, madam,” Eric sniffs dramatically. “I was raised to treat a lady right on a date.”

“Well then,” Lardo licks her lips, waggling her eyebrows seductively. “By all means, sweep me off my feet.”

Bitty snorts, offering his arm, “now how many times have you honestly been swept off your feet?”

Lardo chuckles, before admitting, “just once.”

They walk with the rest of the team to Winter Screw. They’re both legal so they don’t have to bring their own flasks. (They do anyway, because drinks at Screw aren’t nearly as cheap as on campus.) She runs into Camilla by accident, nearly spilling her vodka cranberry all over the woman’s navy dress. She feels bad, and says as much. Camilla eases her worry, saying there’s always dry cleaning if Lardo had spilled.

Part of Larissa wants to admit she feels bad mostly about how they’ve drifted apart. It became easier to talk to Kent about feelings because there was nothing complicated between them. She had a class last semester with Camilla, so she could pretend like nothing had changed. However, the summer was relatively busy for them both. By October, neither of them had texted more than the occasional _what’s up_? _nothing much_. She missed being close to Camilla, but she didn’t miss feeling lost and sad about being in love with someone who couldn’t love her.

They make small talk for a while about classes and mutual friends.

“Is April coming?” Larissa dares to ask when she’s noticed they’ve been talking for so long.

“No, we broke up,” Camilla frowns.

“Oh,” Lardo sputters, quickly adding, “I’m sorry.”

Camilla shakes her head, smiling ruefully, “you hated her.”

“I didn’t!” Lardo insists. “I just wanted you to be happy. If you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

“I was…”

“But?” Lardo smirks.

“We wanted different things,” she resolves cryptically.

Lardo wants to ask more, say more. She wants to say she’s sorry April’s gone, and that long-distance relationships are hard. But she desperately wants Camilla to know that it’s always been her. Ever since freshman orientation, the only person Lardo’s wanted to go home with (other than a few good friends) is Camilla. Because Camilla let her be queer, vivacious, and beautiful. Because Camilla didn’t treat her like a bro or an adversary. She just treated her like the Larissa Lardo always imagined in her head. Only better, because Camilla never talked about Lardo with lofting expressions of _someday_ or _maybe >, like her parents did. She took Larissa at face value and appreciated all of it. Above everything, she wants to kiss Camilla more than she’s wanted to since she came back from Kenya. _

But then Holster grabbing her arm, insisting that it’s time for shots. She’s looking back at Camilla apologetically, thinking how ironic it is that they’re back in this place with the roles reversed. She can only hope that bodes well for the future.

**After Winter Screw**

Camilla’s walked the last of the volleyball team home. It’s not that she didn’t have her own friends or date to be with; but Caitlin’s roommate had gotten a little too rowdy and she’d offered to take her home. And then one teammate turned into an entourage of ten people drunkenly following her lead. It was a nightmare that she never wanted to repeat.

She decides to walk by the hockey house on her way home. It’s a little bit out there, but she’s a hopeless romantic. She really thought this was her night to make a move on Larissa. The timing had always been wrong for them. First it was friends, then Lardo was studying abroad when Camilla accidentally fell in love with April. April was amazing, and would always be her first committed relationship. But after two years and a thousand miles between them, their relationship had gone stagnant. Camilla didn’t want to wake up one more to realize she resented the person she was supposed to care about most in the world.

She was going to kiss Larissa tonight, she’d told herself. She had almost gathered to courage to do so when Holster had taken her away. It seemed perfect in an imperfect way. All this time it felt like Lardo was waiting on Camilla, and now it was Camilla who’d been left behind.

Camilla’s a house down from where the hockey team lives when she can just barely hear someone talking on the phone. She looks up, noticing a figure sitting on the ‘reading room’. There are two voices, one is clearly Larissa’s.

“I don’t know we talked for a while.“

“About…” a male voice prompts.

“About shit we didn’t know because we don’t talk anymore? About how she broke up with her ex.”

“Good.”

“No, not good,” Larissa snaps. “She thinks I hated April. No wonder we aren’t friends anymore.”

“Bullshit, you aren’t friends because you’re too chicken shit to tell her.”

“I am not. Besides you of all people should know–”

“Yea, I do,” he sighs. “But my shit’s different. You have an opening. Fucking take it, Lar.”

“What if it’s too late?” Lardo presses. “What if that was my one shot? What if I turn around tomorrow and she met the love of her life? What if she picks up and moves to London? What if I never sell a single piece and I have to live off of you for the rest of my life?”

There’s faint laughter, and Camilla can’t really hear what the guy says. But she decides she’s heard enough. She’s been around this team long enough to know where the guys hide their spare key. Also, that it’s Winter Screw and they won’t be locking up until whoever’s Haus-sitting (presumably Dex) has seen the last person come through the door. So she barges in, ignoring the shouts of Caitlin, Chowder and Dex.

Camilla’s marching up the stairs, clenching her fists, and hopping (praying) she doesn’t loose her nerve. She doesn’t think to knock before she opens the door to Lardo’s room.

Fortunately, Lardo’s climbed inside so Camilla won’t have to face her fear of heights tonight.

“Cam?” Larissa looks at her, baffled. “Are you ok?”

Camilla crosses the space between them. She feels her hands moving themselves, cupping Larissa’s face as she finally _finally_ does what she’s been waiting three years to do. Larissa’s lips are soft, and her tongue tastes like gummy bears soaked in vodka (which in all likelihood is something that exists). Lardo’s arms are wrapping around her waist, pulling them closer together. Camilla feels their torsos melting into each other, and she moans.

It’s ok to love again, she think to herself. And it’s ok if sometimes people don’t work out on the first or second or even fifth try. Because the electricity moving between them was worth the wait. It was worth growing into themselves, and falling in and out of like…maybe even love. Because when she thinks Larissa Duan there’s a big neon sign exclaiming _forever_ next to her face. And that’s a thought that’s grown fonder in Camilla’s heart over the years.

When they finally stop kissing, Camilla can’t shake the grin on her face. Lardo’s isn’t any less happy. More subtle maybe, but Larissa’s eyes have always been so damn expressive.

“Hey,” Camilla rasps, unsure of where to go from here.

Larissa, for her part, chuckles. “Hey yourself.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title - lyrics from "Sleepover" by Hayley Kiyoko 
> 
> Aka that music video gave me a serious amount of angst and this happened. 
> 
> I'm rarepair, poly trash and accept prompts. [Come say hi on Tumblr.](http://abominableobriens.tumblr.com)


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